


float

by adorablecrab



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Swimming, but enjolras is too victor hugo agrees, it's too hot and the author can't stand it, the weather I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14967389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorablecrab/pseuds/adorablecrab
Summary: “You really were a cat in your past life, weren’t you?”Enjolras smiles at the sound of Grantaire’s voice, but doesn’t take away the arm that is covering his eyes. He is lying on a towel on the wooden pier overlooking the lake, basking in the sun while listening to his friends’ chattering not far away.





	float

“You really were a cat in your past life, weren’t you?”

Enjolras smiles at the sound of Grantaire’s voice, but doesn’t take away the arm that is covering his eyes. He is lying on a towel on the wooden pier overlooking the lake, basking in the sun while listening to his friends’ chattering not far away. Summer is almost over and soon there will be no sun for months, and Enjolras is determined to make the most out of this trip. Charge his batteries. Let the warmth settle deep inside him like Grantaire’s voice does.

“If you believe in that kind of thing,” he answers.

“Are you wearing sunscreen?” Grantaire asks. Enjolras feels the wood planks move as Grantaire sits down next to him.

“Maybe?” He hates the smell. He did put some on his chest, mainly for this scars, just not as much and not as often as he should.

Enjolras feels the weight of something small and cold being placed on his bare chest. He finally opens his eyes and frowns at the bright orange sphere. A clementine.

“Stay hydrated,” Grantaire winks when Enjolras glances at him.

He sighs, sits up and stretches holding the fruit in his hand before starting to peel it off. Grantaire is smiling at him through wet curls falling over his eyes, one leg dangling from the edge of the pier.

“You really should put on sunscreen,” he says, gesturing at the bottle by his side. “Joly is going to kill you. And me.”

“Did Joly send you to mother me?” Enjolras asks, biting on a slice of the fruit, letting the juice fill his mouth.  

“I was coming to bring you a clementine before you had a sunstroke,”  Grantaire shrugs. “Joly sends the sunscreen.”

Enjolras rolls his eyes and turns his back to him. “Knock yourself out.”

“Lazy,” Grantaire tuts, but Enjolras hears him open the bottle and the dreadful squirting noise when he squeezes the lotion out. It’s cold at first, but soon it’s only the feeling of Grantaire’s strong hands moving in circles over his back. Enjolras pulls his hair out of the way and lets his head fall on his chest, trying not to sigh too obviously when Grantaire reaches the back of his neck. It’s all over too soon.

“You know there’s other parts on your body, right?” Grantaire asks, wiping the remaining lotion on Enjolras’ arms.

Enjolras turns around, letting his legs dangle from the edge like Grantaire’s, and the idea of asking him to apply sunscreen on his entire body flashes Enjolras’ mind for just a moment. He could be blushing, or it might just be the heat.

He takes the bottle from Grantaire’s hand, who is also spreading sunscreen over the many tattoos that cover his chest. Enjolras has to make a very conscious effort to look away.

“Do you want me to-” Enjolras gestures with the bottle towards Grantaire’s back, where he can’t reach. Grantaire hesitates before pulling his legs up and turning to the side.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

Enjolras spreads a generous amount of sunscreen over Grantaire’s tattoos and, under the pretense of getting rid of the excess, he also covers the rest of his back, just because he doesn’t want to take his hands off of him. He had always wanted to touch Grantaire’s tattoos, ever since he had learned they were there. Trace every single drawing with the tips of his fingers. Their placement is the opposite of Combeferre’s tattoos. While Combeferre has carefully designed sleeves almost constantly on display, Grantaire has a seemingly chaotic assortment of images covering his back and torso, and some, Enjolras can see now, peeking from under his shorts, almost all of which get completely hidden when he’s dressed.

“All done,” he says, when he can’t stall for much longer without being too creepy.

They eat a couple more clementines in a silence that is surprisingly comfortable, swinging their legs back and forth and watching their friends race each other in the water. Sometimes, it’s exhausting to try to be Grantaire’s friend, and for a while Enjolras wasn’t sure if it was worth the effort. He is glad he never gave up when they can share a moment like this. He is content. The sun is high, all of his favorite people close by, and one that is just a little confusing, a little different, right beside him.

“Hey, R?”

“Hm?”

“Can you swim?”

Grantaire shrugs. “I won’t drown, but I won’t be winning any med-”

He lets out a surprised yelp before disappearing with a splash under the dark surface of the lake. His head reemerges a moment later, laughing and rubbing his eyes.

“Enjolras, you dick!”

“Is it deep?” Enjolras laughs, standing up preparing for a dive.

“I can’t reach the bottom.”

Enjolras grins. Good. Five years in the swimming team and he is about to use it to impress a boy.

He walks back a few steps and runs towards the edge, diving swiftly right over Grantaire’s head. He can tell his form isn’t perfect when his body hits the water, but it does the job. He hears Grantaire whooping before he comes back up.

“Fucking show off!” Grantaire shouts, holding on to one of the columns of the pier. Enjolras swims towards him. “That was awesome! I could never dive like that, all I can do is cannonball.”

“I can teach you if you like,” Enjolras offers.

“Would love to, but now that you threw me in here I’m not getting out so soon,” Grantaire says, swimming a short distance towards the shore, where their feet can reach the bottom, but surprisingly he doesn’t go all the way to the others.

He is trying to float on his back when Enjolras reaches him. And failing.

“I can never do this when there’s people around,” he says when his torso keeps weighing him down.

“Trust issues?” Enjolras grins, definitely not staring at his throat and collar bones as he throws his head back.

Grantaire raises one eyebrow. “What are you? My therapist?”

“And swimming instructor, apparently,” Enjolras says, gently placing one hand on the small of Grantaire’s back. It helps a little, but he can feel Grantaire’s body going completely tense.

“You have to relax,” he says.

“I am relaxed,” Grantaire says, frowning. An obvious lie.

“Come on, trust me,” Enjolras smiles. He just catches the strange look Grantaire throws him before he closes his eyes. He places his other hand on the back Grantaire’s neck, and if he strokes just a little with his thumb… well, sue him.

“You’ve already tried to drown me today,” Grantaire mumbles, but he is trying. Slowly his limbs seem less heavy, his legs stop trying to pull him under the water. Enjolras smiles wider.

“I asked if you could swim.”

“I could have lied, you know how I am.”

“Let your head fall back.”

He does, but startles as soon as the water covers his ears. He raises his head and immediately starts to sink. Enjolras laughs and pushes his middle back up.

“Don’t panic!”

Grantaire smiles and closes his eyes again.

“There,” Enjolras says, taking away his hands when Grantaire manages to balance himself, not even trying to hide the pride in his voice.

Grantaire floats for a couple of moments, a little smirk in his lips, but then he startles again and swings his arms. Enjolras grabs his hand without thinking and Grantaire grips back, firmly.

“I’m here,” Enjolras says. Since Grantaire doesn’t let go of his hand, Enjolras lets himself fall back as well and closes his eyes, floating beside him.

A moment later he feels Grantaire’s arm pulling him down. He can also feels his eyes on him.

“Keep your head still,” he says.

Grantaire fixes his form and clears his throat. “This is what otters do, you know?”

“What?”

“They hold hands when they sleep, so they don’t float away from each other.”

Enjolras snorts. “Each otter.”

“Really?”

Enjolras doesn’t know for how long they stay like that, silent and weightless. He almost loses his balance when Grantaire tangles their fingers together, but smiles at the sky before closing his eyes again. This feels right. It feels like everything is in its proper place. He can get back to changing the world next Monday.

“Look,” Grantaire says softly, a strange echo to his voice, at the same moment Enjolras feels a shadow over them.

He opens his eyes. They have floated all the way back to the pier, and somehow passed between the columns without hitting any. There is moss covering almost every inch of wood and rays of sunlight filter through the boards over their heads. Enjolras’ shoulder hits a column and he straightens up, followed by Grantaire. The water is shallower under here, closer to the shore. Enjolras’s shoulders are just above the water. Grantaire is probably on tiptoes.

“Was this your plan all along?” Grantaire asks, looping on arm around a plank between two columns, keeping his shoulders and part of his chest above the water. “Lure me to some isolated place where they won’t find my body?”

“Yes, I somehow managed to control the current to bring us down here.”

They hadn’t let go of each others hands, but Grantaire does now, and loops his free arm around Enjolras’ waist instead, in a reassuring movement, as if he needed help to stay afloat.

Enjolras is both taller and a better swimmer. His feet are firmly planted on the bottom. Grantaire knows that. Enjolras doesn’t try to argue, pressed as he is against Grantaire’s chest. He is glad that he doesn’t blush too easily.

Grantaire is strangely serious despite the teasing tone and Enjolras can almost feel his breath on his face. He curls his toes on the soft earth under his feet, aware of the plants curling around his legs that would make Courfeyrac scream in terror.

“I don’t doubt it,” Grantaire says in a low tone, slanting his head to the side. “I don’t think the water would disobey you.”

Enjolras wraps his arms around Grantaire’s neck, slowly, trying to make out the almost pleading look on his face. Grantaire tightens the grip around his waist.

 _Please, want this too,_ Enjolras thinks. _Please, like me too._

What should he do? Should he kiss him? Should he ask?

He opens his mouth, but before he can decide what to say, Grantaire’s lips are on his, and Enjolras’ body is better than his brain at making decisions, because he kisses back, tasting clementines and the sun and the lake on Grantaire’s tongue. It’s seconds before Grantaire pulls away. It’s not enough.

Grantaire leans his forehead against his, without opening his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“What for?”

Grantaire opens his eyes and lifts his head to look at him, but doesn’t reply. Enjolras caresses the back of his neck and he leans into the touch, his lashes fluttering.

“I wanted you to kiss me,” Enjolras says shakily. “I always want you to kiss me.”

Grantaire’s smile is almost sad. “Yeah?” he asks, leaning forward. “Because we’re here? Because we’re away?”

“No, ”Enjolras shakes his head. “No,” he repeats, vehemently. “Always.”

Enjolras feels the movement of Grantaire’s chest when he breathes deeply before leaning even closer.

“Can I kiss you again?” he whispers, brushing his nose on Enjolras’ cheek.

This place, the moss covered dark space under the pier, might be Enjolras’ favorite place in the entire world just now and he never wants to leave. There is a certain urgency in the way Grantaire kisses, in the firm grip on Enjolras’ waist and the bites on his lip that are slowly driving him crazy.

Suddenly, Grantaire seems to forget to hold on to the plank, because he slides underwater, dragging Enjolras with him with a splash. They re emerge laughing, but what Enjolras really wants now is to be somewhere else with Grantaire. Somewhere horizontal, preferably. And dry. Somewhere where he can feel the warmth of Grantaire’s skin and his weight on top of him…

“Everybody is out here,” he says casually, brushing some wet curls away from Grantaire’s eyes.

Grantaire raises one eyebrow. “Yes they are.”

“We could… be inside,” Enjolras smirks at the way Grantaire’s eyes widen just a little. “We wouldn’t be missed.”

“Well then,” Grantaire clears his throat and reaches up to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. “After you.”

Turns out, screw the pier. Enjolras’ favorite place at the moment is wherever Grantaire is going to be.

**Author's Note:**

> This was part of a longer fic that I abandoned, but I liked these little lake shenanigans, so here it is.
> 
> As always, many thanks to Sunfreckle for putting up with me and for her *wordcraft*
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://deboracabral.tumblr.com/).  
> 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] float](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097585) by [Sunfreckle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunfreckle/pseuds/Sunfreckle)




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